


The Candle Town Requiem

by orphan_account



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Cautionary Tale, Drampa Goes Berserk, Gen, If that's the right word, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pokemon Arson, Sad Ending, That's Its Ability For A Reason, barely anything really, kind of a drabble??, really short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 21:50:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16004012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "I want to tell you about somewhere that I used to live.When I was younger, there existed a small village at the bottom of a mountain. It sat many hundreds of miles away from the nearest city, but it was a popular rest stop for Pokémon trainers on their way across the region. In the suffocating dark of night, light from the village acted as a guiding beacon for lost or weary travelers. It was because of this small, flickering illumination that the village was eventually dubbed Candle Town.Candle Town used to be my home."





	The Candle Town Requiem

I want to tell you about somewhere that I used to live.

When I was younger, there existed a small village at the bottom of a mountain. It sat many hundreds of miles away from the nearest city, but it was a popular rest stop for Pokémon trainers on their way across the region. In the suffocating dark of night, light from the village acted as a guiding beacon for lost or weary travelers. It was because of this small, flickering illumination that the village was eventually dubbed Candle Town.

Candle Town used to be my home.

It was a thriving community there. Human and Pokemon alike worked together to build and to lead in a sort of cooperative coexistence. Peace was as ubiquitous as water, and it flowed just as easily. Streams of it seemed to snake throughout the entire village, seen in Machop carrying bags for the elderly, trained service Eevee walking with social anxious owners, the smiles of the playing children...

Oh, the children…

There was one Pokemon that I remember well. Too well. It was only a half resident, living sometimes there and sometimes in the mountain that loomed over us all. It would come down for food, berries specifically, and while it was down it would spend time with the local children, participating in games or finding simple pleasure in watching them. After several years of regular visits from this enigma, we finally decided that it needed a formal name. The term we used arose from a combination of its characteristics; it was a dragon in shape, and a grampa in nature, so we called it Drampa.

Drampa was a part of daily life. All of the children knew it, and so did all of the adults, so even if we never knew where it came from, we all accepted it as a sort of novelty. It was a defining feature of our little village, a special thread in the tapestry of our lives. It was something we never thought to question, nor to fear.

We should have feared it.

I’ll never forget that day. It started off as normal as any other, with sunshine and laughter, communication and trade, life and love. I was on my way home from working in the fields, admiring the fluffiness of the clouds as they drifted along with the breeze. It was by some sick stroke of luck that I found myself passing through the park as it happened. I remember hearing the shrieking laughter of the children, followed by a sudden period of deathly silence. One of them was already on the ground by the time I looked over, smacked down by an indignant adult who still had a hand raised. The faces of the other children were all horrified, and I felt the exact same way. For one second, and one second only, the entire world was absolutely frozen.

Then, from the forest, it came charging. Drampa roared in outrage as it attacked the offending adult, a scene too gruesome for me to recall, much less describe. The children screamed and scattered, running away from their old friend in a wild panic, unable to handle the gore that I couldn’t rip my eyes from. It had all happened so fast, so unexpectedly. I almost didn’t react when it finished with its first victim and moved onto its second, a woman unfortunate enough to get caught in the crossfire.

After that, I ran. I was quick on my feet for the first time in my life, but I wasn’t quick enough. No one had seen Drampa breathe fire before that day, and yet it surrounded us, engulfing whole buildings in its angry orange grip with entire families still trapped inside. The harder the beast rampaged, the higher the flames raised, and the faster I was pushed to run until I couldn’t go any farther. I collapsed at the edge of the forest, hiding myself sloppily behind the thick trunk of a tree. 

It was from there that I watched my home die. 

Our village, once a proud glimmer of hope in the dark, became a graveyard of melted candle wax. I was one of only a handful of survivors. Many burned to death in the streets or in their homes, and most of the children were declared missing, never to be seen again.

They never found Drampa, either. Stories pass around, theories really, of what happened to it. Some say it was overcome with despair and threw itself down the mountain. Some say it receded into the mysterious place from which it originally came. Some say it still lives up there somewhere, hiding, waiting for humanity to forget the sins it’s committed.

All I know for certain are the nightmares I’m still plagued with, where it comes for me, looking to finish the job it started back in Candle Town.

To truly extinguish every last spark that it made.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [queenredwrites](https://queenredwrites.tumblr.com/)


End file.
